Chapter 39
The distraction of settling into Thunder Bay this week has been the only thing keeping me from thinking about Mila.
The love of my life who ghosted me as soon as I realized I loved her.
Love her. Just because she hasn’t reached out doesn’t mean I love her any less.
If anything, this time of no contact has made me realize exactly how much I crave her in my life.
It took me less than one day before I spilled the news to Teddy about Mila and me, and although he didn’t believe me at first, he’s been supportive.
I know it’s a hard line for him to walk between being my best friend and trying to cultivate a relationship with his newfound sister, but he seems cool with it, for the most part.
I’d never expect him to tell me all her business, or any of it, really, but it would be nice to know anything at all about why.
He’s let me know she’s okay, and that’ll have to be enough for now. My days have been hockey, training, recovery, eating, and sleeping. That’s it. I’m not sure what I’ll do long term, but I’ve managed to convince myself that Mila will reach out, and all I have to do is wait.
Pathetic. I make another lap around the compound, trying to use the skills Misha taught me to memorize building layouts quickly. One more right up here and I should be…
“Ah!”
“Fuck!”
Teddy barrels into me, rounding the corner like someone’s lit his ass on fire and scaring the shit out of me. He’s surprised, as if I’m the last person he expected, and he doesn’t seem thrilled to see me. Surely, someone has trained him not to run his hand through his hair when he’s nervous?
“You’re in a hurry,” I say, unable to hide my curiosity. He must notice me narrowing my eyes at his obvious tell, because he drops his hand to his side immediately and tries to act nonchalant.
“No! I mean, no. Not at all. I do have somewhere to be, though, so…”
“Somewhere with your passport in your pocket?” Oh God.
I’d almost forgotten how awkward he can be.
Once he realized Ellie was into him, he became all suave with her.
And the Bratva training has made him pretty damn scary to watch in the sparring ring.
But this is old-school Teddy. I’ve caught him in a throwback moment of tension.
“Uh. Yeah, actually. Apparently, I’m being summoned to a big Bratva wedding in Russia. Fucking Rusev lost my invitation, so I’ve gotta leave now. You’ll hang out with Ellie for me, right?”
He’s trying to ease past me down the hallway, but even though I’m not quite his size, I can still block him a bit.
“Sure I can, but it’s Friday. What about the exhibition match on Tuesday?”
“Coach knows I’m going, and the wedding is Sunday. I’ll be back before then. Ivan assured me.”
We both realize what he said at the same time. Why the hell am I asking about hockey? Who the fuck cares?
“Is she—”
“I’ve really gotta go, Thatch. You know I love you like a brother, and I hate to see you in an ounce of pain. Please believe me when I say it’ll all work out. I really do think so. But right now, I have a plane to catch, okay? Love you, man.”
“Love you, too.”
I lean heavily against the wall, staying put for the five or so minutes it takes Teddy to grab a bag and head for the SUV waiting outside the front door.
Ellie, looking more pregnant these days, squeezes him for a hug and wipes her eyes when she lets him go.
I don’t really think she’s been all that emotional lately…
Maybe she’s upset that she doesn’t get to go to the fancy Bratva shindig. Or maybe she thinks Teddy will be in danger during this trip. I guess I can imagine any Bratva occasion having the potential to get rowdy and dangerous.
Continuing down the hallway as the sun starts to set, Teddy’s locked office door beckons. The keypad taunts me even though I’ve never been much of a snooper. I wonder…
2…6…6…2…7
The satisfying click of the lock proves that Teddy hasn’t changed a bit, and I step into the office, closing the door behind me.
Too late, I consider that it might be booby-trapped or equipped with lasers that’ll fire poison darts at me as soon as I take a step, but I cross the room to the desk unscathed.
I’ve been here before, but only briefly. I don’t think it’s necessarily Teddy’s favorite room in the house, and I don’t blame him. I wouldn’t want to be reminded of the massive weight on my shoulders any more than I needed to be. It does have a sick bar cart in a globe, though, so it isn’t all bad.
He’s filled in the bookshelves with some of his own knickknacks, including framed photos of him and Ellie. Some of these look like she’s sleeping…Jesus, Teddy. Seeing him and Ellie just reminds me of Mila, as everything else does.
Continuing my perusal, I hit the jackpot on a side table near a banquet chair. A three-wick candle. Hell yes. I haven’t burned a candle since…well, since before Mila. But there’s a big-ass tub in my suite, and a candlelit bath might be just the thing I need to relax.
I need a lighter, though, and there’s not one in sight. Surely in his desk drawer, though. This is invasive, I know, but I’m a trustworthy guy, and Teddy and I have shared a lot over the years. I’ll just find a lighter, go enjoy my bath, and go to sleep.
Except there’s not a fucking lighter in sight. Just my luck. Sitting back heavily into the giant leather desk chair that Teddy must have made custom, I note how tall his desk is. I would fit under there perfectly, with plenty of room to kneel and please Mila…
Goddamn, I have to get a grip. I’ll have a bath without a candle, then drink a bottle of wine and go to bed.
Anything is better than…ooo, shiny. A golden flash catches my eye in the desk drawer, and pulling it free reveals a thick cream piece of cardstock with gold lettering.
It’s in Cyrillic, but based on the entwined wedding rings embossed at the top, I can guess this is the invitation to the wedding Teddy has to attend.
Teddy’s desk phone rings, startling me, and I drop the paper, feeling like a kid who’s been caught being naughty.
Which I suppose I am. It’s the perfect reminder that I shouldn’t be in here, and I’m late for my bath.
Grabbing my candle in case I find a lighter elsewhere, I bend down to retrieve the invite, realizing it flipped when it fell.
The front text was Cyrillic, but the back…the back is in English, and my candle clatters to the ground as I read every other word, tears clouding my vision immediately.
You . . . cordially . . . wedding
Mila Taranova
&
Oleg Zadorov
Panic steals my breath as I pull my phone from my pocket with shaking hands.
That fucker better not be on the plane yet.
If he doesn’t answer my call, I’m taking Ellie to her parents’ house and burning this place to the ground.
Luckily for the entire Taranova Bratva, Teddy picks up on the third ring.
“Hey, man, we’re about to take off. Is everything—”
“Her fucking wedding? Mila? I love her, and you’re going to her goddamn wedding without a single explanation?” My anger is wild and hot as I lash out, but it dissolves just as quickly into pain, and I can’t control my sobs.
“Where are you? How do you—”
“I’m curled into the fetal position under your office desk, asshole. I was looking for a lighter, and I found it—”
“Please don’t light any candles—”
“Fuck you!” I scream again, and this is so much better than sobbing that I decide to stick with it, yelling at Teddy until my throat feels like it’s been shredded with the same knife as my heart.
“I don’t care about your plane, but if you don’t tell me the entire truth right now, I swear to God, you’ll regret it. ”
I can’t believe I’ve just threatened my Bratva boss best friend, who definitely has more than a few kills to his name at this point, but I don’t give a shit anymore. My Mila is marrying someone else in two days in fucking Russia, and I have no clue what’s going on.
“I’ll forgive that because you’re upset and I love you, but do not threaten me ever again, Thatcher. Do you understand?”
His voice is deadly serious, and I sniffle out a petulant yes so he’ll continue.
“I don’t know much more than you do. I don’t think everything is as it seems, and I told you I think everything will work out, but I won’t learn more until we land in Russia.
Now, I have to go. We’re literally about to take off.
Everything will be okay. Please take care of Ellie. I’ll see you next week.”
The service was already starting to spot by the time his goodbye fades away, and I let my phone drop from my hand to the floor.
The daylight fades until darkness consumes the room, yet I can’t bring myself to uncurl and move from my hiding spot under the desk.
I briefly consider that I might feel safe under the desk because that’s the first place I was allowed to touch Mila, and I swear I can almost feel her hand playing with my hair.
The pain overcomes me, and I vomit violently onto the rug under the desk, mostly bile since I haven’t eaten since breakfast. My first thought is to find something to clean it up, but this is the least of what Teddy deserves for being less than honest with me earlier.
In any case, it’s enough to get me off my ass because, as miserable as I am, I can’t lie here with the stench of vomit.
Trudging back to my room feels like a death march, every step representing another inch away from Mila.
Having to think about her in the past tense is the worst fate I could imagine for myself, and if I hadn’t realized I had loved her before, I sure as fuck would now.
This is heartbreak, and every stupid song and movie about love lost suddenly makes sense.
The funny thing is, she’d be so disappointed in how I’m acting right now.
“You aren’t a quitter, solnyshko. I know you can take it. The reward will be much better on the other side if you keep pushing.”
That’s the problem, though. I am a quitter.
Anything I managed to endure was only because of her.
And this time, she’s not by my side. That’s the difference.
I brush my teeth and try to sleep, but it’s impossible.
I’m haunted by the idea that if the shoe were on the other foot, she’d burn down the world to get to me.
She’d burn it all down without a thought. I know this is true, deep in my bones. I don’t know why she’s getting married, but it can’t be a simple answer. It has to be politics, or blackmail, or…
Blackmail.
Shit. Shit. I’ve been moping and wasting precious fucking hours when it’s so goddamn obvious. Mila’s in trouble. For the first time in over a week, I have a clear purpose in life, and one priority above all others.
I dial a number in my phone that I haven’t used since my playboy days, but there should be plenty of goodwill left over to ensure what I need is ready within the hour.
“Hey, Prescott. Long time no talk. Wanna party?”
“I need a long-haul jet. Range to get to Russia. Ready and in Thunder Bay as soon as you can have it here. Cost isn’t an issue.”
“Shit, man, consider it done. I have one in Miami that can get to you in no time. But what’s the rush? Should I be worried?” He laughs, but I don’t return it.
“Not you, man. But someone should be. Someone’s got my girl, and I’m getting her back. No matter the cost.”